


The Cavern of the Beast

by Kouji757



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Elves, Bondage, Demons, Digestion, Domination, Draenei, Humans, Hypnotism, Mind Control, Mind Rape, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Non-Consensual Bondage, Orcs, Swallowing, Telepathic Bondage, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Rape, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Tongues, Trolls, Vore, Worgen, World of Warcraft - Freeform, enslavement, tauren - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:57:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kouji757/pseuds/Kouji757
Summary: Many came to the cavern seeking power or vengeance or fulfillment.  All thought themselves safe - secure in their knowledge and strength...all were so terribly wrong.





	1. The Sin'dorei

The cavern was silent and reeked of rank meat; a liquid of some kind swirled around the sin'dorei female's ankles as she edged ever further from the safety of the cave's entrance and pushed further into the darkness and stink. Those who traveled to this cavern came with burning reason...with a need.  With demands.  With...desires.  This sin'dorei, clad in her dark robes that rattled with thin, rune-carved chains, with her hood pulled over her red hair so that only the green glow of her eyes was detectable...she walked with a purpose, a felfire torch held high.  Cautious, yes...cautious as she moved, but her head was lowered against the dripping of moisture from the ceiling, not cowed in fear.  Whatever her purpose it was clear she intended to see her desires made real.  
  
The entity that watched her did not need eyes to see - it could feel her movements as much in the air as it could detect her footsteps - and it felt the sort of excitement, a thrill of predator spying prey, and as that thrill spread through its form the entire cavern shivered.  
  
The sin'dorei noticed - how could she not? - as the floor rippled beneath her feet, and that pretty little head lifted to stare into the darkness.  
  
"DEMON!"  
  
Her voice did not echo in this damp place but that didn't seem to faze her.  She stood, she breathed, she listened...and she kept moving.  
  
Demon, she'd said...yes, yes, it - or, it supposed, "He," for this encounter - was that.  Was many things.  Another ripple traveled through the cavern as He felt amusement; no doubt this elf believed she knew what lay within this cavern and this knowledge had given her the boldness to come seek Him - had led her to believe she could enter and make her demands, safe enough to enter the lair of the beast and emerge victorious.  
  
More of His attention awakened and focused on the tiny feet making their way deeper and deeper into the cavern; the liquid grew deeper, the smell, the air clouded with the stink of rotting flesh, but the woman showed no indication of fear or second thoughts.  
  
_Well,_ He thought to himself, _what flavor of delight has come to my home._  
  
The thought of a proper new plaything ignited His full attention and finally, in a voice as smooth as silk that seemed to drip from the already sodden walls themselves, He spoke.  
  
_You are brave to enter, child...tell me...what brings you to my domain?_  
  
She stopped, head lifting again and her gaze roaming - clearly trying to pinpoint where the voice had come from.  He laughed and the floor vibrated beneath her feet; she slid in liquid suddenly taking on a more gel-like consistency and for a brief instant He saw a look of disgust cross her beautiful features.  
  
"I've come to bargain."  
  
_Mortals such as you rarely have anything to bargain with..._  
  
"I know what you are."  
  
_None know what I truly am, little one._  
  
She pressed her lips into a thin line, expression hardening.  Raising the felfire torch over her head she took a long moment to look around; she had followed a mostly straight path to this point but now stood at a Y-shaped intersection, and appeared to be trying to choose a direction to take.  
  
The entire cavern shuddered as His laughter rumbled around her.  She was so close - so close! - to finding a small cluster of those who had failed to hold His attention closely enough.    
  
_Go on..._ He cooed.  _Come in...tell me what you know._  
  
Perhaps because He'd invited her in she stubbornly remained where she was.  "I know what you are, demon - a creature of lust, of desires.  You feed off them, and if someone has something you want, you'll give them the power to dominate others in return."  
  
_Ahh.._. His sigh hissed through the hallway, a fine white mist from deeper within the system blowing with it.  _Close, so close!  Tell me...what do you seek, you who have amused me?_  
  
She took a breath, then He watched as her expression flickered to one of realization as the mist came closer...it was so brief, but it was there, and the floor again shivered under her feet with His delight.   "There is a man - he was once mine, and he will be again once you've given me the power to claim him."  
  
_I see no reason to give you anything, little elf._  
  
"You feed off lust," she countered.  "I have...plans, for him.  Punishments for my own amusement.  All that I do to him, you may devour.  I just want him as my own."  
  
Mortals were so...simplistic.  So predictable.  So...boring.    
  
_And if I refuse?_  
  
"I will take your powers by force," came the firm, and stupidly brave, reply.  
  
His cackling shook the walls and ceiling, causing a rain of wet to shower over her.  The mist wafted ever closer, thicker and waist-high on the female and yet she stood her ground; He loved when playthings had spirit...the desperation and shame that preceded the moment their will broke made the feast ever more delightful.  
  
_Brave, brave...  Yes...yesssss....come closer.  Come, come...let us speak face to face._  
  
And so she came as beckoned; the mist crawled up her waist, to her stomach, to her shoulders - He could see her raising her chin, trying to breath air that, while hot and stinking, wasn't the mist.  Her steps grew less certain as the ground beneath her feet became squishy and the liquid grew thick and clingy.  
  
"Enough!"  she finally cried into the darkness.  "I want what I seek and I WILL take it by force if I must!  Show yourself!"  
  
_Such a temper...you would ruin any goodwill you have gained by making demands?_  
  
"You have everything to gain from an agreement," she retorted.  "We BOTH stand to gain."  
  
_That is true,_ He purred.  _But...I stand to gain so much more whether I play along or not._  
  
The cavern walls suddenly sucked in closer with a squelching noise, bumping her with enough force to slide her several inches in the muck.  Behind her, without her realizing, a thin, nearly transparent membrane slid from the wall and sealed the passageway; her gasp gave way to a growl, which then gave way to a look of fear as dripping goo from the ceiling landed squarely on her torch and plunged everything into pitch blackness.  In an instant she conjured a tiny flame on her palm, then realized with alarm that there was a faint reddish light beginning to fill the corridor; it seemed to come from the walls themselves, and under its unnerving glow the stone looked decidedly more flesh-like, more...alive.  
  
_Such a lovely, delicate little plaything..._ He whispered; the sound rubbed against her and clung like a shroud, the words echoing within the hall and within her head.  He could feel the mental wards slam into place, forcing him out, and He laughed; the red glow grew brighter and with it the mist surged and wrapped itself around her small form.  There was the suck of a final breath and, much as He'd anticipated, she backpedaled.  
  
Her back struck the membrane and stuck there; a veritable shower of slime came from the ceiling, striking her shoulders and rolling down her body as she struggled against the sticky grip of the membrane.  
  
"N-No!  It's not supposed to be like this!"  
  
_Is it not?_ He rumbled.  With His prey now trapped He felt no sense of urgency, so the fleshy tendrils that slipped from pockets in the ceiling came down lazily, in her line of sight and from within the mist that surrounded her, twitching and writhing just in front of her - teasing her by coming just close enough to nearly stroke her smeared face, only to fall slack and pull away.  
  
As He inhaled the entire cavern moved with the effort, and the mist pressed in closer; within its cloud shapes began to form - tiny, claw-like hands that danced around the slack tendrils, stroking them in obscene ways.  
  
The female seemed unwilling to speak now, despite her outburst only moments prior; a thick string of slime had slipped over her head and was oozing dangerously close to her mouth, and it was clear she had no intention of breathing the mist unless she had to...such a foolish, stupid choice, when she was already within His grasp - He wondered how she could consider falling unconscious from lack of air to be any better than her current situation, but then...mortals tended to panic in the most delightful of ways.  
  
Against the membrane He could feel her shaking even as she struggled; the brave woman from only moments earlier was gone and panic was setting in as now the little hands of mist came for her face, pulling at her eyelids and mouth, pouring in and filling her lungs.    
  
_Shhh...shhhh...give in...surrender..._  
  
The whispers brushed against her skin, rubbed up against the mental wards and kept creeping about, seeking weakness - and there would be weakness....oh yes, there would be a weakness soon, as the mist wrapped the female in its inebriating grasp, as His whispers thrummed in her ears in a never-ending chant.  
  
_Surrender...let go...you belong to me now...my precious little one, surrender...surrender..._  
  
And, minutes later, the first ward slipped, and the mist pushed inward; the tendrils came forward as well, caressing her face and leaving trails of slime in their wake before slipping down to gently grasp her wrists and draw them up and back, pressing them into the membrane and capturing them there.  
  
Sensing the wards beginning to slip He inhaled deeply and blew the mist into her face, again slipping in through her mouth, her nose, and seeping behind her eyes to claw at her mind; her eyes were dulling, losing their green coloration and taking on a pale, milky white tone as the spell took her passed the point of no return and the wards began to fall to shreds.  
  
The claws of mist thickened, grew more defined and solid, and teased their way down her sodden robes, dancing along the runic chains to her waist and the bottom-most buckle that held the armor on.  They lost solidness just long enough to slip within the buckle and shatter it, then flowed inside to probe about until they slipped under the padded cloth top she wore under the armor itself; there they found bare flesh and slithered up her stomach, moving between her breasts and pushing upward until their tips found her neckline and poked free.  
  
For a moment He kept the misty tendrils in place, splitting a few smaller ones off to curl around her breasts before commanding the others to gain...sharpness, an edge seemingly impossible for mist to take, yet it did and it cut through the cloth, the robes, even the chains as easily as a knife through butter.  
  
Another surge of mist flowed forward, pushing at the cut fabric, pushing it away and baring her breasts to the air; the sin'dorei let out a gasp as air hit her skin, but her struggles were done - she hung against the membrane, enthralled by the mist's enchantment and slowly gaining a coat of the ooze that was now pouring from every inch of the walls and ceiling.  
  
Almost lovingly the tendrils came again and freed her arms from the membrane as the mist pushed and tugged the upper half of her garment away; within the mist another shape took form - that of a face, or a suggestion of one.  It was little more than a darkened slit suggesting a mouth, and two black pits in the reddish glow where eyes would be.  
  
The twin pits's attention roamed over what it had revealed of its catch so far, and the walls shivered with delight as the misty hands now slipped within her waistband and flowed beneath it; again it split into smaller ones to coil around her legs as it slowly inched down them, with a single tendril slipping into her underwear to begin to rub gently back and forth there.  
  
The sin'dorei arched her back and the tendrils of flesh that held her wrists quickly slithered up her arms to take the place of the misty ones, wrapping a single loop around her neck before curling down to slide under and between her breasts with the delicate tips moving to tease and tweak nipples already hard and slick from ooze.  A quiet little moan left the female's lips and finally, the final mental ward fell.  
  
_Mine..._ He breathed, as much in her mind as against her skin as the mist tugged boots and pants free, and let it all fall to the ground in a forgotten heap.  
  
Nude and helpless, and wholly under His power, the sin'dorei hung and squirmed as flesh and mist fondled her.  From within the nearby walls, with a chorus of splattering noises as orifices opened, thicker, more substantial tendrils slid slickly free and came to curl around her feet and ankles, playing with her soles and her toes and gently spreading her legs apart.  The caverns around her pulsed - in, out, in, out, a pattern similar to breathing, and then an inhale, a held breath, and He slipped inside between her legs.  
  
The reaction was immediate, and desperate - a rocking back and forth, a heavy breath, a moan and a quiet plea, a pull at the tendrils that bound her.  'More' He heard, the barest whisper, as He increased the girth of what lay within her and began to thrust back and forth, alternating at random between slow and frenzied, still playing with her breasts as he worked.  
  
She was His now - He knew without a doubt as he pleasured her and reveled in the flood of desire, the sweat and the noises and taste of the skin beneath His many appendages, and then He set himself to His true purpose.  
  
He wasn't here to simply entertain guests for His own survival, His own amusement...no, no...that wasn't what He was created for.    
  
Even as He thrust and teased, even as more of Him came from the walls - hands, tongues, tendrils, touching and tasting and licking and sucking - He lifted from the floor a singular organ.  
  
It was far thicker than the rest of  Him currently at play, and looked like a large, oil-slicked orb atop a thick trunk of flesh; it came free from the floor with a sucking, popping noise, and rose up to position itself behind the squirming, panting, gasping woman.  Once just behind her head, nearly touching the stringy strands of oozed hair, a nearly invisible slit began to open; barely noticeable at first, but slowly, slowly...it opened, revealing a nest of tentacles with sucker-like tips that writhed like a nest of snakes in a bowl of slime.  
  
The tendrils began to maneuver the woman now, even as she arched and squirmed, curling her toes and breathily murmuring pleas and begging for more; He began to angle her head down, raising her heels toward the ceiling and bringing her hands in close to her stomach, tucking her elbows in against her side.  Carefully, He eased her head down into the writhing mass; the little tendrils flailed about in her hair, snaking through it until they found scalp and attaching themselves.  
  
Through the contact with the organ and with no wards in place He could see the whole of her life - everything laid as bare as she was now.  With the connection made and stable, despite the woman's squirming, He began to drain her away...memories, the mind-numbing pleasure she was lost in, even drawing from her life force - all of it down a throat-like hole at bottom of the orb, savored and devoured or whisked away to holding stomachs, the woman quickly drained of everything that made her her and of all pertinent information she may have carried.  
  
He didn't care about that part in particular - memories did not sustain him, only meat and emotion - and knew his masters would come to collect what He'd taken to peruse and use against the mortal races of this accursed planet.  Her lust, her desire and greed that had driven her here - these He feasted on, relishing their taste almost as much as He enjoyed the taste of her skin and the sweat that coated it as she came, over and over, until finally the draining overtook her and she couldn't maintain.  
  
As the draining happened her movements slowed and smoothed; He withdrew from within her and idly played with her outer parts again.  She was barely a person at this point, too lost in the afterglow and now too fragmented after having been drained; all she could manage was to gently rub herself against the tendril He coiled between her legs and up around her waist.  For now...she was spent, and He was sated.  
  
Here, He had a choice to make.  
  
Ordinarily, with prey spent and emptied, He would relegate them to a meat sack - a sort of pseudo-stomach where He held meals, keeping them alive and 'entertained' just enough to gain a trickle of feeding off their climaxes, until they at last became too broken to serve even as that and He flooded their sack with digestive enzymes and absorbed the resulting slurry.  
  
But, sometimes...sometimes...when something caught His attention, delighted Him enough, He spared mortals the sack for a time, instead taking pains to keep them as healthy, as stimulated, as alive as possible - kept like precious treasures, guarded jealously, and tended to as one would tend to a prized garden.  Was this female - so bold to come and make demands of Him - worthy of being spared?  Would she hold up enough as He played with her, time and again?  Her lust was sharp and sweet and once He'd swept her beneath the spell of the mist all underlying, spoiling tastes of defiance had disappeared...she was delicious, desirable, but would she reach such intensity again?  
  
He supposed it was worth finding out.  
  
Gently He pulled her from the organ, the sucker-tipped tendrils pulling free with a sound like ripping fabric and falling into their bowl of slime as the orb closed and was sucked back into the floor.  Her body rolled, doing graceful pirouettes, as thick, meaty tendrils extended from the ceiling and coiled her within them, leaving just her delicate feet and her head visible; He drew her deeper within Himself, going down a dizzying maze of corridors until she was pulled into the chamber He considered to be His core.  
  
Dozens of humanoids of varying races were tucked into little fleshy pockets, their only visible parts being their heads poking out; the chamber was full of the moans and cries of people caught in the throes of pleasure, and as He carried her over their heads He looked over His collection and sought a hole to place her in.  Despite knowing at all times what may or may not be within Him He was pleasantly surprised to see that every pocket in this chamber was full of His favorites, His most delicious snacks.  
  
That just meant...out with the old, in with the new.  
  
It took a few moments to search His considerable memory and find the one mortal that had been there the longest; it was an older orc female, and while He was still receiving a trickle from her it was hardly worth keeping her over.  
  
Beneath the orc's feet the flesh split open and she began to slide downward; ankle deep, then her knees, then she was at her waist, and at this point the throat she was slipping into began to actively swallow, strong muscles pulling and carrying her away through a meat tube to an outlaying chamber where He would unconsciously sort her into a meat sack and begin the process of digesting her.  
  
As soon as the orc was gone and the throat closed He lowered the sin'dorei's feet to the hole and slowly uncoiled as she was inserted into the hot, tight hole; she let out a final moan as she slid into place, the flesh around her gently flexing and relaxing, massaging the newcomer and signaling new tentacles to grow from its walls and wrap her tightly as the other tendrils pulled away and were sucked back into the ceiling.  
  
He formed a small hand of mist and lovingly stroked her face, sliding a finger beneath her chin and lifting her head - her eyes were white now and dull, all spark of will and awareness gone.  With a low laugh that shook every fiber of Himself and set the entire cavern trembling He slipped between her legs once more to test how ready she was to play again.  
  
Far from this central chamber the ooze absorbed back into the walls, the red glow disappeared, and the meat-like appearance of the walls faded to darkened, wet stone...ready for the next guest to step inside and try their luck.


	2. The Paladin

The man who stood framed in the corridor's opening, an aura of Light energy lining his form, was tall and broad of shoulder; his armor was heavy and bore the signs of having seen many battles and repairs in its time, as did the sword and shield he held in hand as he took his first thudding steps into the stinking tunnel.  
  
It had noticed his approach before he'd stepped inside, of course - he had radiated such a single-minded sense of purpose that It had sensed him long before the cavern's entrance had even come into the man's view.  And It was ready, and waiting...eager, anxious, with the cavern's inside unusually still and dry, to give It's guest no indication of what it was about to stray into.  This one...a paladin, a warrior of the Light, was someone who perhaps stood a chance to actually injure It; holy men and women, so sure of themselves and their faith, were an exceptional prize to snatch, providing It could break them without suffering too much damage in return.  Whether this one was destined for a meat sack or would be kept for extended feeding remained to be seen, but it was all It could do to hold Itself still as the man crossed the threshold and entered.  
  
There was the barest painful tingle as the man's aura swept across what appeared to be bare rock walls, and just visible through the slits of his helm were a pair of golden eyes - this one had come ready for a fight, that much was certain, though why he had come alone...it was something It had yet to figure out about the mortals who stepped within Its walls.  
  
Regardless...in he came, each step accompanied by the clink of his armor and caution evident in his movements - his gaze was roaming ahead of him, behind him, keeping an eye on the walls themselves.  
  
Chuckling to Itself It pitched its voice into a feminine tone, sweet and seductive, echoing Its voice from deeper within the passageways.  
  
 _A wayward hero enters...what does he seek?_  
  
The paladin stopped, shield and sword raising into a readied position - still his gaze swept his surroundings, but he did not speak.  It - She, now - waited, and watched; the man held his ready stance for several minutes longer, and when She nor he spoke, he began to walk again.  
  
This one was at least smart enough not to be distracted by meaningless talk...and as he moved further inward, the light of the entrance shrinking behind him, She decided to give him something to be distracted by.  
  
With a squelch the "stone" entryway drew in on itself, puckering like closed lips and shutting; the passageway was now lit only by the paladin's own aura, and the golden light cast everything into stark contrast as he spun around to look back toward where he'd come.  For a moment he was stock still, then he swept the arm holding the sword forward as though he was about to throw it but instead of the blade flying a hammer formed in a flash of Light flew forward and struck the blocked entrance with a thunderous crash.  
  
She twitched at the blow, the floor beneath his feet shivering, and for a brief moment the rocky appearance of the now shuttered entrance flickered to show something dark purple and veiny before the glamour came back.    
  
 _My my,_ She purred, despite the pain radiating from the strike.  The passageway he stood in now would soon come to a four-way intersection; the cavern shook as all but one pathway sucked itself shut as the entrance had.  She had an idea of where to herd him...providing he behaved.  
  
Now, he spoke, as he slowly turned to look away from his closed off exit.  "Show yourself."  
  
 _Not a man of many words, are we?_  
  
His aura flared as he once again began trudging down the passageway; when he came to the intersection he tested each blocked path in the same manner as he had the entrance, and with each Light-created blow She felt her temper souring - She'd intended to lead him deeper before truly beginning to play with him, but with him so willing to toss his damned Light around She would need to act quickly and She so despised being forced to act on the prey's terms rather than Her own.  
  
"I said, show yourself."  
  
 _Why should I, little paladin?_  
  
He didn't respond, instead taking the only passage open to him; the further he went the more moist the cavern walls became, and the passageway began to narrow until it was barely wide enough for him to walk without turning - the edges of his pauldrons scraped here and there as he came too close to one side or the other, and yet he kept going with that sword and shield at the ready and his aura burning away the wetness on the walls as he passed.  
  
Each time he came to another hallway branching off She'd let him get a few steps in and then suck it shut, suffering the brunt of another blast of Light, but each time the paladin stepped back out to where he'd come from the 'stone' was a bit wetter, the hall a bit more claustrophobic.  
  
When they grew too close for him to walk without turning to put a shoulder forward, he stopped.  And stood there.  
  
She could hear his breath rasping behind that plate helm, and could almost hear him debating what to do next.  Whatever he'd come here to do it would seem he expected to be able to walk in, accomplish it, and walk out...a typical, short-sighted holy man with far too much faith in himself and his blasted Light.  
  
And now he was standing, unwilling to move yet again and She felt her irritation rise; gradually a red glow began to emanate from his surroundings, competing with the gold of his aura and throwing unnatural shadows on walls that were beginning to ooze - with the reddish light it almost seemed like they were bleeding but it was simply a thick, colorless substance, gel-like in consistency and as it rolled to the floor it began to pool at his feet.  
  
It had barely crested his the tops of his toes when he began to slowly walk backwards, outpacing the ooze only because She was letting him, because the ooze was merely a momentary distraction; if he were to turn now he would find his way back to be flooded with a thick white mist, and to Her delight the paladin backed right into it and had taken several breaths before the sudden change in the air became apparent to him.  
  
Immediately that aura flared and burned away the slime clinging to his boots and the mist that was in his immediate area as he coughed and took up a stance in the middle of the corridor; the instant the aura receded back to lining his form however the mist pressed in again, and once more he caused a burst of Light to erupt and burn it away.  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
 _Everywhere, and nowhere.  You erred, coming into my domain, paladin._  
  
"Too many squires have disappeared as of late," came his retort.  "I will see an end to that."  
  
 _You will see an end.  Yours._  
  
"The Light is with me."  As he spoke he drove the mist away again, then maintained the protective barrier rather than letting it fall back onto his form.  
  
She huffed a laugh through the corridor, the air vibrating with Her amusement.  _Tell me - how long do you think you can keep that up?_  
  
"Long enough to end you."  
  
 _Time itself will cease before I am ended, holy man.  Surrender yourself to me...there is no victory waiting for you here.  Your death can either be painful, or..._  
  
She trailed off, Her voice thrumming around him as the mist surged inward; the Light aura burned it as quickly as it approached, the hallway filled with a hissing noise as it was seared in that golden light, but even as the mist struggled to reach him She set the walls to oozing again even as a thin membrane slipped into place to block the paladin's retreat even more.  
  
That plated head turned to study the membrane - it wasn't entirely transparent, and the little rivulets of slime that ran down it and glistened in his Light highlighted more fully; he took a single swing at it and his sword sunk in and sliced downward only a handful of inches before it was halted and left stuck to the membrane.  With a grunt of irritation he managed to wrench it free, and She felt a surge of glee as She heard the faintest of swears come from behind that helmet as his feet slid in the ooze once more beginning to pool around his feet far faster than his Light could burn it away.  
  
 _Surrender, paladin...let your final moments be ones of pleasure and delight.  No pain, no torture...know what it means to be cherished, within my grasp_.  
  
His head was turning this way and that - whether he was trying to discern where Her voice echoed from, or simply was trying to find a direction to flee in wasn't clear - and as he looked about thick, meaty tendrils began to slip from pockets in the walls that opened with wet smacking noises; he noticed them immediately as She wasn't trying to hide them from his sight, and his sword darted out to hack at them as they writhed in close and darted out to try and snare him.  
  
The passageway filled with the smell of seared flesh as he hacked and slashed, keeping the tendrils at bay and somehow managing to keep his footing in slime that was now ankle-deep and only growing deeper.  
  
With each severed tendril She knew pain, irritation, but again it was simply a distraction; She needed to render his Light useless and the fact that Her ooze could overcome it had given Her an idea that would only work if his attention was fully focused elsewhere...and so She hurled dozens, hundreds of tendrils at him - distracting him as well as tiring him, no doubt.  
  
And then, She opened a divot beneath his feet, its edge situated at his heels and angled so as the ground dropped out from under him he was flung flat on his back.  
  
He landed with a splat and a curse, and immediately he began to struggle as the ooze - both that which was already in the passageway and the sudden flow She pumped from below him - washed over him, covering legs and chest and nearly coming high enough to flood into his helmet.  The floor beneath him had shed its glamour of rough stone and was now slick flesh, and he was floundering in a pool of slime that was rapidly congealing; the combination of his heavy armor, the lack of friction, and the slime's grasp soon had him stuck on his back, panting heavily with his arms out to his sides, and what was left of his aura had quickly dampened as he was overwhelmed.    
  
Her laughter echoed around him and the hole beneath him opened deeper; he slid further down until all that was left above the slime were the toes of his boots and his face.  
  
With a loud snarl the man lashed out with the Light; for a very brief instant he blasted the slime away and managed to lift his sword arm from the clinging ooze but She responded with once again deepening the hole he lay in and he slid deep enough that now he was submerged fully and what little had remained of his aura flickered and died.  
  
He began to struggle, to try and get at least his head above the suffocating ooze; She let him lay and flail for a moment or two, then slipped a few more tendrils from the wall to seize him by the wrists and neck and tugged him upright enough to at least break the surface - his helmet, however, was clogged with the slime even with his sitting upright.  
  
The mist pressed in, clawed hand-like shapes taking form and slipping under his helm, pulling it free and casting it away, and finally She got a look at what She'd captured.  
  
He was an older man with silvered hair plastered to his head with sweat and ooze and his beard was trimmed neatly; his eyes were bright and full of rage as he sputtered and coughed, struggling against the tendrils that held his wrists and trying to use them to pull himself free of the pool his lower half was mired in.  
  
She brought one of the clawed hands in to stroke at his face, combing his hair into place and forcing his chin up; a face-like formation in the mist peered down at him, admiring the handsome little morsel She'd captured.  
  
 _Such a fine man.._. She cooed.    
  
He snapped at Her, trying to bite the misty hand on his chin; with a laugh She let the rough projection of a face fade into nothingness and beneath his feet made the hole ever deeper and then began to let him sink - slowly, keeping his arms held in place so that they were gradually raising above his head.  
  
The ooze rose until it was just beneath his nose and in that instant he struck out with the Light again; She had not been expecting it and so the tendrils around his wrists and neck were burned away but without their support he sank immediately, the slime swallowing him as he slid down into the pit.  
  
The walls were too slick for him to gain any purchase as he clawed at them and kicking his legs did little to propel him upward; his armor was simply too heavy, weighing him down to the point She didn't even need to exert effort to drag him under.  
  
 _Surrender..._ She whispered in his ears, _surrender and I will save you._  
  
With the reddish glow now barely visible above his head his feet hit the bottom of the pit; surprisingly the moment he felt 'solid' ground beneath him he began to rip his own armor off, discarding it to sink slowly through the sludge around him before he began to seek something, anything he could use as handholds upon the walls around him.  
  
With his armor gone, his weapon discarded...all She would need to worry Herself with was the Light.  
  
She gathered Herself and began to push him back toward the surface; he shot out of the little hole with some force and struck the flesh wall, sliding to the floor away from where the pit had been, clawing at his mouth to wipe the slime away and heaving in deep, desperate breaths of mist-laden air.  
  
By the sixth or seventh breath it seemed he remembered, and She heard him suck in a breath but it was already too late; he'd breathed in enough to start feeling its effects, pushing himself upright and swaying unsteadily on his feet.  To Her great annoyance the Light came to the man's call again and he pressed his hands to his chest, his body briefly glowing; the unsteadiness disappeared as whatever effect the mist was beginning to enact was cleansed away.  
  
The entire cavern shuddered with Her frustration - no more.  No more games.  No promise of idyllic pleasure for this one's final days.  Ordinarily She relished the idea of toying with and ultimately conquering a holy fool but this one had done too much damage, had taken too much effort...he would either break here and now, or She would end him.  
  
At Her will the ground beneath him turned soft and spongey, sucking him in to the knees and trapping him in a fleshy prison; he slapped a hand against it, Her shuddering from the force of the smite, but aside from smoke and the scent of seared flesh it did little.  
  
From within the fleshy interior tentacles wrapped around his ankles and tugged him deeper; he clawed at the floor as he sank in to his waist, snarling in incoherent rage as he was sucked down and left trapped, helpless as he was pulled in to his chest and then...his downward motion stopped.  
  
The tentacles around his ankles slid away and much thinner ones slipped up to tug the man's boots off, then slowly slither up his pantslegs; they reached his groin and coiled around him there, and She felt him trying to flinch away from Her grasp.  
  
 _How you die is in your hands, paladin,_ She whispered, pressing the mist in around him.  He began to try and pry at the edges of the flesh prison that held him captive; She could feel his heart beginning to race and She realized he was once again holding his breath to try and fight the mist.  
  
She began to teasingly stroke him and could almost taste his frustration as he went erect despite his struggles, and finally he was forced to take a breath.  
  
"I-I will...I will not...not FALL HERE!"  
  
His sudden ferocity took Her by surprise and the intensity of the Light he summoned seared Her far more painfully than anything he'd done prior; bright wings erupted from his back, his eyes turned to glowing golden orbs, his hands found a renewed strength that let him tear deep rends into the meat that held him.  With loud sucking sounds he tore himself from Her grasp and clambered out of the hole, yanking the remnant of the tendril around his cock off and throwing it away before reaching down to pull the ones out of his pantslegs.  
  
Her reaction was immediate, and angry.  Once more She bombarded him with tendrils, not caring how many he burned away - all She cared for was exhausting him, forcing him to expend what little strength he had left so that She could strike once that Light faded.  
  
It didn't take long, thankfully.  
  
He stood knee-deep in severed, seared tendrils, and finally...the Light faded, and he dropped to his knees in exhaustion.  
  
The pile of severed tendrils served to hide the organ She forced free of the ground; it erupted just in front of him, the orb-topped, thick tendril rocketing for his face.  The orb split open, revealing a nest of sucker-tipped tentacles in a pool of slime, and moments later struck him full in the face; he found the strength to try and fight it, fingers clawing at the edge as it sucked his head inward, stopping just shy of his mouth, and all the tentacles within it latched on to him tightly.  
  
As the mental connection was made She found his faith, his conviction, was a fairly potent defense but, much like his physical body, he was weakening here too; She'd exhausted him and despite his outer appearance of rage he was frightened, and his fear was giving him limited strength to keep fighting Her.  She knew now that this would not be one She would be keeping and so wasn't gentle as She tore at his outer defenses.  
  
His mind seemed structured like walls encompassing a city; when She'd worn down his outermost mental defenses She felt his consciousness flee inward to the next 'wall' which left a great deal of scattered memories left open for Her to examine even as She threw Herself after him.  Memories of his childhood and training within his holy order were laid bare, and She knew that he knew She now held those.  
  
She drained them away and kept after him, feeling him surrender the next wall and gaining access to memories of battles in his younger days and even a few of him courting a lovely little blonde woman.  
  
Two more 'walls' fell, and then finally She came up against his final defense - that of a closely guarded sense of self that was encircled with the Light, and ultimately something She could not match while he was conscious of Her attempts to take him.  
  
She coiled around his mind, thinking.  
  
His physical body had gone still as the guiding consciousness had turned inward to keep Her intrusion at bay; She knew that on some level he would be able to feel, to experience anything She cared to do to him now.  As annoyed as She was with him it would perhaps be beneficial to try and coax him out to defend his body, rather than trying to assault the shield of Light that kept Her from fully dominating him.  
  
And, as She considered it, She then had a delightful idea that prompted Her to pull back all the essence and memories She'd stolen from him, and take Her time carefully considering each one.  
  
From within the walls came the tendrils once more, slipping around his body and beginning to fondle him; a small grouping of them grabbed him by ankles and wrists and forced him to lay spread-eagled in the floor with his head still trapped within Her organ.  She caused a growth to erupt from the wall and swallow his cock, sucking at it as a tendril slipped inside his ass and began to squirm.  
  
He could defend his mind, or try to keep Her from defiling his body...but She knew he didn't have the strength to do both, and to further weaken him She began to feed him back his memories, but altered...profaned, full of false recollections of Her.  
  
 _See,_ She told him, _I am what you came here seeking._  
  
His body began to writhe as it responded to Her stimulation and She could feel his indignation and denial as She showed him an altered memory of him - he trudged through the woods but this time rather than seeking orcs to slay he came across Her pulsating form in a clearing, and with a cry of joy had thrown himself into the mass of tendrils, head thrown back in ecstasy as he was drawn in to his neck and held there, surrending to the inflicted pleasure without hesitation.  
  
NO! came his response.  
  
 _Time and again you have sought me, and now you have found me...do not deny yourself,_ She whispered, again feeding him another memory of him willingly throwing himself into Her care, exulting in the euphoria and begging for Her touch and attention.  
  
His denial came again, and the shield of Light around his mind flickered; his body was Her plaything until he decided to come out - the lust was empty with no mind behind it but still She tended to him as though he were there.   
  
And as She worked his body over She fed him lie after lie, took his life and inserted Herself into his memories over and over; his denials were weakening, his confusion rising - he was beginning to crack, to doubt himself and believe Her.  That shield of Light flickered again and the barest hint of consciousness returned as he stepped out from behind it and awakened.  
  
A moan escaped his lips as his hips moved, and She felt a deep sense of satisfaction and contentment - despite everything, She was breaking him after all.  
  
 _Give yourself to me, paladin.  I will take care of you, you who have been looking for me for so long._  
  
"I...I w-wuh-"  His voice was thick, the words slurred.  His head twitched, the organ moving with the motion; he gave one final, feeble attempt to pull his wrists free before relaxing fully into Her grasp.  
  
So She had broken him after all...  She ran tendrils lovingly down his body, slipping beneath his cloth shirt and pants and tugging them free to reveal his body beneath; he was muscled, barely a hint of fat on him, and She admired the tone and taste of him even as She continued to please him.    
  
She was on the cusp of deciding to keep him after all when that shield of Light activated in what had to be one last suicidal attempt to keep Her at bay; She recoiled with such force that several tentacles were ripped free of the organ, left attached to his scalp, and he yelped in pain as She tore herself away from his dick and out of his ass.  
  
As he lay moaning on the ground, naked and still erect, with the Light bringing him back to his senses, She struck a final time;  She wrapped a thick tentacle around his waist to keep him still then the organ came down over his head one more time, the tentacles within it having withdrawn into its sides as it clamped down and began to suck.  It pulled him in head-first, pulling slickly across his neck and, with some difficulty, stretching wide enough to engulf his shoulders.  
  
He couldn't even struggle he was so weakened by this point; from the throat-like opening at the back of the organ came a thin tendril with a puckered end.  It found his mouth and forced itself between his lips, oozing between his teeth until it could push past, then it shoved itself down his throat and nearly to his stomach; once in place the puckered end opened and began to pump in a liquid.  The tentacle wrapped around him could feel his belly swell as it filled with the sedative She was force-feeding him; She filled him to near-bursting then retracted the tendril, the organ, and left him to lay on the ground where he was too weak to even try and vomit it all back out.  
  
She could tell the sedative was beginning to work when he began to shiver where he lay, followed by his head slumping to one side; the fleshy floor beneath him quivered as She sent another wave of ooze washing over him - not to trap him, but to lubricate him for what was coming next.  
  
With a squishing noise a wide, yawning hole opened behind the man's shoulders and head; She moved the tentacle from his waist down to coil around his legs and used it to tip him upward to slide his head down into the opening until Her muscles could latch on and begin pulling him in without assistance.  Inch by inch She sucked him in, his nude body encased in a fleshy, skin-tight tube that moved him along with steady, regular swallowing-like movements, his arms trapped at his side and slowly going unconscious from the lack of air within the tight confines of the makshift throat that was ferrying him along.  
  
He was fully unconscious as he arrived at his final destination; She had moved him to one of the outlying rooms that held mortals in meat sacks - enclosures that held their prey captive until they were slowly digested and absorbed.  She'd chosen an empty sack near the ceiling for this one; his head came through first and as his shoulders hit the membrane of the sack it stretched outward and hung down slightly, cradling him like he laid in a hammock.  With assistance from a tendril She pushed his legs and feet in - he now lay curled up in a fetal position within his sack and from the stretchy walls that held him the digestive enzymes began to seep in and fill the empty space around his body.  As an afterthought She ballooned the sack with a limited supply of air, then the hole through which he'd been squeezed sucked itself shut.  
  
Here he would lay, marinating in the digestive juices and turning into a slurry to be absorbed later - should he wake up before he suffocated for a final time he would know what it felt like to be eaten alive.  
  
 _Sweet dreams, foolish paladin..._


	3. The Hound and the Bull

It sat quietly, biding Its time, as It listened to the banter between the two males that had so casually walked within Its walls.

  
They had been preceded by a large buck with an arrow jutting from its side - it was bleeding heavily, panting and frantic to find a place of refuge from the hunters that trailed it.  The arrival of the deer had initially confused It - wildlife had long ago learned to avoid the seemingly empty cavern system - and had drawn Its attention from an idle afternoon tending to Its favorite captives in time to catch a glimpse of a furred snout and tufted ears as a worgen peeked his head into the entrance and sniffed about.

  
"Told ye, mate - rifles.  Whatever's hit won't be able to run."

  
The Gilnean's voice echoed down the passageway as the mail-clad manbeast stepped beneath Its roof, again sniffing loudly and with the aforementioned rifle slung casually over his shoulder.  From behind him came a hulking figure - incredibly tall and wide, its footsteps shaking the ground as it walked and with an impressive pair of antlers sprouting from its head; the male tauren had to bend to get his head beneath the cave's roof and literally towered over his companion.  He was clad in hide armor - a strange contrast to the worgen's clinking mail - and had a huge longbow clutched in one large hand that he had to strap to his back before he could move further in behind the worgen.

  
"Too noisy, too smelly," the tauren had rumbled, his voice deep and loud.   "A single shot and all but what you've struck would flee."

  
The worgen waved a hand irritably and began to stride further into the cave, stopping only to gesture down at the floor where a cluster of blood droplets had splattered.  "Gunpowder ain't smelly, whotevah's in this cave is smelly.  Let's get in and out, quick like, yeah?"

  
The tauren nodded and the two began to venture further into the cavern together; It was both impressed and surprised that the gigantic tauren - such a large specimen, far larger than it had ever seen - was able to maneuver through the corridors and keep pace with the worgen, and watched eagerly as they went deeper and deeper...it was all It could do to hold the glamour in place, to keep the illusion of plain stone visible as the worgen pulled a flare from a pouch hanging on his belt and struck it against the wall.

  
It waited until they'd moved far enough away from the entrance that all traces of daylight were gone and they were navigating by the flare's light alone before it silently closed the entryway, sealing them unknowingly within.

  
The deer they sought had already been taken care of, sucked into a meat sack without fanfare but as of yet not digested...It didn't much care for the taste of game meat but those times when something had wandered in It had captured it out of a practical need, as food was food when it really came down to it.  It hadn't been expecting far better fare to follow the paltry meal in, and as It watched and listened to the chatter of the hunters as they followed a blood trail that was about to rapidly end, It began to plan...

  
Worgen were impossible to deal with; their dual nature of Man and Beast in the same body meant that any attempt to dominate them usually failed...all of It's attempts in the past had only managed to shatter the mind into meaningless pieces that reduced the creature into a gibbering mess that was useless save for filling a meat sack.

  
With all the previous failures in mind It did not really believe this time would be any different, but the worgen that had come previously had been alone...this one had come with what It assumed was a friend.  There was a relationship of some kind that It could perhaps exploit...it wasn't exactly encouraging and could still prove to be a waste of time, but It had considerable time now to figure that out, with the males trapped within It's body and no way out.  

  
As a first step It absorbed the smeared blood that led to where It had sucked the deer into the wall and then replaced it with simple blood droplets - more of the same of what the hunters had been trailing.  It didn't imagine they would venture inward for much longer so It needed to act quickly; as the hunters rounded the corner to the false blood drop trail It pulled a thin membrane across the passageway to block their retreat, then began to seep slime from the ceiling and gather it into a gravity-defying, quivering blob, waiting...

  
When the worgen's hand with the flare in it came close enough It let the blob drop; with a sizzle the flare went out, followed by a loud Gilnean-accented curse and the splatter of liquid hitting the wall as the worgen shook his arm vigorously, and then the muffled fumbling noises of him digging for another flare in a pouch came soon afterward.

  
Before he could pull another flare free It whipped a tendril from the ceiling and sent the worgen toppling forward to strike what, for the moment, still felt like rough and solid stone.  He landed with a clatter and a skittering sound as multiple somethings fell out of that belt pouch.

  
"-the hell was that?!"

  
"What do you mean?"

  
"Somethin' hit me!"

  
"I heard only you move and nothing else.  Did you trip?"

  
"I didn' trip! --ah damn it, where's me flares..."

  
It felt a sense of triumph at that - knocking one over was but an initial step to separating the two, but now knowing that their light source had just gone skipping across the ground...   In fact, It now took the opportunity to turn the ground beneath the spilled objects soft and spongy, just quickly enough to suck them all down and out of the hunter's reach before hardening the area once more.

  
This had just gotten incredibly easier, It mused.

  
"You can track our scent back, yes?"

  
"Look here, I might look like a dog but I ain't a trackin' hound and I'll like you to remember that.  Besides...smells like the insides of somethin' dead in here, I can't smell a thing."

  
In the dark the tauren shifted, scraping hooves over the stone as he carefully backed up; he stopped disappointingly short of the membrane however and instead bent down to begin feeling across the floor.  
It felt those strong fingers moving about, felt him find the ruined flare and the puddle, and heard a rumble of disgust.

   
With their only source of light now gone, several feet in front of the worgen It regurgitated the deer and suspended it from tendrils dangling from the ceiling like a grotesque puppet; under the tendril's control the hooves clattered against the stone and It drew it away, further down the passageway - to the hunters it sounded as though the spooked animal was sprinting away.

  
The worgen took the bait, stumbling after it with a hand on the wall to steady himself; behind him his tauren companion called for him to stop.  It whipped the deer around a corner and waited...

  
Once the worgen had rounded the corner and stopped, straining his ears in the sudden silence, It brought another membrane across the coridor to box the tauren in and block the worgen's retreat.

  
\--------------------------

  
The tauren stood in the darkness, quietly cursing under his breath as his friend clambered away in the darkness.  

  
Though It's attention was split between the two males It couldn't help but admire the sheer size of the bull; he was solid muscle under that leather armor and was stooped to keep the tips of his antlers from scraping the ceiling.

  
There were certain races It loved capturing more than others: orcs and trolls, for their stamina; elves, for their passions; even humans were a delightful treat.  Tauren though...were something special indeed.  They were thoughtful but powerful creatures, and in everything they did they started slow...like an avalanche, gathering strength as they went until the forceful end.  Rare were the times they held strategic information for Its masters but when it came to feeding off them there were few things better than a tauren caught in the throes of repeated orgasm.

  
Why the tauren was in the company of a worgen didn't matter, nor would it remain a mystery for long; with the bull trapped It took one more moment of pause to admire its catch before mist began to seep from the walls, gathering around the male's ankles and beginning a slow climb up the body.

  
In the darkness the tauren could not see the mist but as it crept high enough to reach the tail and kept going It saw the tauren become faintly aware of the sudden change in the air; the tail twitched and he reached down a hand to feel the sudden sheen of moisture gathering on his leather leggings.  To the tauren's credit he did not outwardly react except with a small flare of the nostrils and almost unnoticeably straightening where he stood; it was a very subtle indication of sudden apprehension, and once more the tauren called out for the worgen and was met with silence.

  
The mist climbed higher, swirling around his chest; the tauren began to slowly feel his way back and grunted in surprise and disgust when his fingers met with the membrane blocking his retreat and stuck there.  It watched as the male tugged futilely, the membrane moving and bending with him but not releasing his fingers, and then the mist was tickling the tauren's chin.

  
He took his first breath of the mist as he was pulling a dagger from his belt to try and cut his hand free of the membrane, carefully trying to ease the blade's tip into the sticky surface next to his thumb; the blade was sharp and sliced in slightly, only to be halted after a bare inch and becoming just as stuck as the tauren's fingers.

  
His efforts to free the dagger and his hand began to slow, as a white tint began to overcome his eyes.

  
With a chuckle that shook the tiny chamber It slid tendrils from the walls that twitched nearer to the male as he breathed in more and more of the mist that now covered him head to hooves; with a shuddering sigh the tauren's shoulders slumped, and he slowly lowered himself down to his knees - his hand still snared but his head drooping.  There was no struggle as the tendrils began to coil him, seeking the ties and buckles that held his armor to his massive form.

  
It slid the bow from the tauren's back and dropped it to a floor that was rapidly losing its stone-like solidness and was becoming soft, spongy, and wet with ooze; as the leathers came free of his body and he was cradled within the grasp of several dozen tendrils It lowered its organ from the ceiling, the orb already split open and the tentacles within writhing and reaching for the tauren's head.

  
It made the mental connection and quickly sorted through the tauren's memories, finding what it sought and then lulling the tauren into a deep, peaceful slumber as It cocooned him within thicker tentacles and lifted his huge bulk from the floor; moving him through the passageways with those huge antlers would prove tricky but luckily It already had a destination in mind.

  
Not far from where it had captured such an impressive prize was a section of Its body that essentially blocked off another smaller, more claustrophobic section of the natural cavern system It had filled with Itself; It knew already that the 'mouths' It stored its treasured prizes in were full, and also that none of them were big enough to fit the tauren within even if there was an unoccupied pocket waiting to be filled...but, if it were to expend the energy needed to expand It's body outward into that blocked area, It could generate another flesh pocket room with one space guaranteed to be as large as it needed for this male.

  
It would take several hours but...yes, it would be worth it.

  
Several occupants of meat sacks suddenly had their spaces flood with far more potent digestive enzymes - It would need as much energy as possible to speed the process of expansion along, after all - and with It's prize sleeping securely within It's tentacles, It began to slowly maneuver the tauren toward what would become his eventual new home as It turned It's full attention to the worgen still wandering aimlessly in the dark.

  
\---------------------------------------

  
The worgen, while not having followed the 'escaping' deer very far, had still strayed far enough from the tauren that It was able to close the way behind him and divert the path deeper within Itself; the worgen very audibly expressed confusion at finding that the way back was not what he recalled, and he spent several minutes calling for his tauren friend in increasing tones of panic before he began to rather desperately 'trace' his path back the way he'd come despite knowing that somehow, the path had changed.

  
It watched every move of the male, closing the way behind him as he moved and altering the path in front of him, herding him deeper and deeper within Its body and toward a singular destination where...

  
-the tauren had just been secured within.  

  
_A lost little puppy has wandered somewhere he shouldn't have..._

  
The worgen stopped in his tracks at the mocking whisper as it echoed through the halls.  "...n-not funny, Leka.  Where are ye?"

  
_Leka..._ It mused.  _He is safe...for now.  Sleeping and dreaming within my arms, as you shall be._

  
"Who's there?"  The worgen paused and It saw the flash of bared teeth.  "-where's Leka?"

  
_Come...come...I have your friend safe and sound._

  
The corridor began to fill with a red glow; the worgen's attention darted forward and back, clearly looking for the source of Its voice.  As the glow brightened the walls lost their stone-like appearance and became veiny, soft, and fleshy, pulsating with some far-off heartbeat.  The worgen's breath caught and he froze where he stood; a thick carpet of mist seeped upward, and from within the swirling white came half-imagined shapes of hands.

  
"Ah, ah AH-" the worgen let out a yelp that was disgust, fear, and rage rolled into one - he backpedaled only to recoil when his shoulders met a wet and squishy wall that had sucked itself shut behind him.

  
The mist-hands beckoned him forward as the hallway shuddered with far-off laughter; visibly unnerved and fearful, the worgen began to slowly edge down the passageway.

  
"What the hells-" The worgen turned the words into a mantra as he walked; It laughed again and led him onward, through increasing tighter corridors until finally...

  
The worgen came around a corner and to the doorway of a newly formed room.

  
It had barely had time to do more than coat itself along the ceiling, walls, and floor of this previously sealed off section; It would need much more time to secrete the acids to enlarge the space, and grow in the needed throats and stomachs, but for now...for now it served a purpose of a holding area - a viewing area the worgen could only look into as he was halted at the doorway by a sudden onslaught of tendrils whipping free of the walls and ensnaring his arms and ankles.

  
Within the center of the room was the tauren, naked and sucked in tight against a fleshy pillar that stretched from ceiling to floor; wide bands of pulsing flesh bound him around the antlers, wrists, stomach, and hooves, as tendrils crawled over his form caressing his erection and combing tenderly through his fur and mane.

  
What surprise the worgen had at his sudden capture immediately gave way to shock, terror, and revulsion at seeing his fellow.

  
"Ah, gods...no, no no no...what've- what've ye DONE to him?!  What are you?!"

  
The worgen began to wildly struggle against the tendrils that held him in place; It pulled and tugged in return, dragging the beast to his knees before sliding a tendril around his neck - tight enough to force his head up but not strangling...yet.

  
_He sleeps, safe and sound...for now.  His fate is in your hands - I have long had questions about your kind, worgen.  Surrender to me, let me learn of your kind through you, and your friend, your...mate...will not be harmed_.

  
Despite the choking tendril around his neck, the worgen shook his head violently back and forth.  "This ain't happening...this ain't-"

  
It tightened that tendril just a bit and coiled further around his neck, stopping the shaking motion and forcing the worgen to look directly at the tauren once more.

  
_Surrender...or you both die,_ It whispered.

  
The flesh pillar around the tauren began to throb and suck at him; slowly, visibly, the tauren began to slide further inside it.  Of course it had no intention of killing the tauren - not under any circumstance would It do that to this specimen, oh no - but within the pillar was a hollowed holding area, somewhere it could safely store the sleeping tauren until everything else was in place.

  
To the worgen it looked as though the tauren was being swallowed; a helpless whimper escaped his throat as he watched the slow disappearance of the other.

  
_Surrender...save him...give yourself to me...give in..._

  
The tauren's stomach and legs disappeared beneath the pulsating flesh, accompanied by a loud and rhythmic 'schlup' noise as air was expelled from around his form as It pressed in around him; the flesh inched up the tauren's abdomen and across his chest, his hands disappeared and were pulled in to the elbow-

  
_Delicious meat...such a prize...devoured slowly, savored...tucked within a hot, tight belly...he'll never know how you betrayed him.._.

  
When only the tauren's head remained free of the pillar finally the worgen cried out "STOP! STOP, PLEASE!"

  
Feeling a smug sense of victory It paused in It's 'swallowing' and released the worgen's head from It's grasp; he immediately hung his head, something between panting and sobbing coming from his mouth.

  
"S-stop...stop...don't hurt 'em....don't hurt 'em, please..."

  
_Then you surrender?_

  
"I- I surrender...just let 'em go..."

  
Just as slowly as It had sucked him down, It began to push the tauren back to the surface of the pillar, leaving him bound as before within the thick bands of meat.  The worgen was trembling where he hung within the tendrils, swallowing hard with his attention now riveted on the captive tauren.

  
"-what do you want from me?"

  
_Knowledge..._ It purred.  _Do not struggle, do not fight me.  Allow me to take what I desire and you both will survive._

  
"But what do you WANT?!"

  
_Shhh, shhh.._. It tutted.

  
More tendrils slid free from the wall as the ones that already held the worgen pressed his limbs in closer to his body; teasingly, slowly, It fully coiled the worgen within its grasp, from his toes all the way up to around his neck - so thickly that the worgen's chin was forced up toward the ceiling where he was able to clearly see the orb-like organ slipping free from a gap above his head.

  
His breath caught in his throat as the orb split open and spilled ooze across his muzzle and forehead, showing off the writhing mass of suckered tentacles housed within it.

  
_No struggling...or your mate's life is forfeit and you will bear witness to his final moments as he slides down my throat._

  
He tried to shake his head but couldn't, and merely squeezed tear-filled eyes closed as the orb lowered over his head and made contact; the tentacles wormed their way through his fur and as before It found Itself trying and failing to comprehend a worgen's inner mind.

  
There was a great deal of fear here - and anger, rage.  But the worgen wasn't fighting It as all the others had...It had the distinct feeling of a frightened child and a wild animal both were watching It as It tried to press inward without any sort of sense to orient Itself to.

  
Within Its physical grasp the worgen trembled and sobbed, but inside the mind...It began to carefully examine the emotions and fragments of memory that were rushing by Its attention, repeatedly being masked and circling around in a manner It hadn't seen before in other mortals.

  
After some time, It finally understood.

  
There were inherent instincts, emotions, even levels of intelligence that were distinctly Man or Beast; the rituals worgen were subjected to to bring these two aspects into balance allowed them to work together seamlessly - as though they were one entity, with neither able to overtake the other unless it was specifically allowed.

  
The mind-altering magic It employed to enthrall It's victims was unraveling the balance between the two, allowing one or the other free reign to dominate; when this occurred that is when the mind shattered, unable to cope.

  
This worgen It held wasn't under the effects of Its magic - in fact, It had specifically avoided trying to bespell him, instead relying entirely on the worgen's fear for his mate (LITERAL mate - not just a friend but a lover, no less) to keep the worgen's struggles in check.  With nothing fighting It and without Its magic interfering, It finally knew what It had been doing wrong.

  
And now It also knew that it would be impossible for It to ever enthrall a worgen by force; there would be no need for the extra effort in the future if It didn't have something to coerce the beast with.

  
_Yes...I understand now..._ It purred; the organ came free from the worgen's head with a loud sucking noise and a whimper from the male.  Tenderly It wiped slime from the worgen's eyes, and brushed his mane back into place.  _You have been immensely helpful, my fine friend...  I am willing to reward you, providing you...behave..._

  
"Just let us go- you said-"

  
_I said you would survive, not that I would release you or your mate_.

  
"But you said-"

  
_That you would survive,_ It repeated.  The tendrils began to throb and shift; thinner ones sprouted from the walls and ceiling, slipping into the tiny gaps between the coils and seeking the worgen's armor and clothing.  The mail shirt and leggings thudded heavily to the ground as they were removed; the worgen inhaled sharply as it felt tendrils closing in around his groin and snapping his loincloth free.  The padded cloth shirt and pants under the armor were removed swiftly, and It idly massaged the worgen's cock as he squirmed and protested.

  
Then, ignoring the worgen's despairing cry and pleas, It once again pulled the tauren down deep into the flesh pillar until again only his head was visible; the tendrils wrapped around the worgen's body shifted and began to push him toward the pillar, and then once he'd reached it began to push him into the pillar against the tauren's chest.

  
"No, no- let go, LET GO-"

  
The pillar's meat sucked in around the worgen as he was pressed inward; the tendrils uncoiled as the flesh encased him despite the male's futile thrashing, holding just long enough to position him against the meat and give it time to grow over him and capture him in place.

  
_Hush, now...we wouldn't want to disturb your lover, now would we?_

  
The worgen's face was pressed in against the tauren's chest, his head under his chin; the male was finally silenced as the meat grew in over the muzzle and pulled it closed.

  
The worgen was wrapped in an imitation of a lover's embrace around the tauren, arms pulled deep into the pillar and to either side of the bull's broad chest; he was straddling the tauren's massive erection, and squirmed as a pair of tendrils wormed its way between the males, each one coiling around a cock and beginning to tease.

  
_Relax_ , It whispered into the crying worgen's ear.  _Enjoy my company...behave and you and your mate will spend an eternity of bliss together, safe within me and knowing no pain._

  
The worgen tried to growl something, some refusal, but with his mouth held shut he could only close his eyes and endure as the flesh pillar worked its way over him ever more securely.

  
By the time the hours had passed and the newly grown room was ready to start accepting other precious prizes the worgen had seemingly resigned himself to his fate; there was no more struggles, no more pleas - he had simply snuggled himself in tight against his mate and periodically wiggled his hips to adjust himself as he was stroked.

  
The tauren had awakened not long after the worgen had been trapped against his chest; It had spent those several wonderful hours reveling in the two males's climaxes and in It's victory over them both and now it was gently, lovingly removing them from their temporary prison within the pillar and sliding them into two specially-created pockets where they would remain for the foreseeable future.

  
The tauren's was an enormous opening and he sank in up to his neck with a satisfied grunt, a look of pure euphoria on his face; nestled up right next to it and separated by only a thin layer of meat was the worgen's designated pocket.

  
The worgen had at first begun to protest as he realized they were being separated; the lips of the pocket sucked in gently but firmly around the male's neck but it didn't take long for the worgen to realize there was only the thin layer of flesh separating him from the tauren - he could still feel his mate, could still grasp him through the layer, and their faces were close enough that he could lick and kiss the tauren's muzzle.

  
As the inner walls of the flesh pocket began to throb and heat up, massaging the worgen's body to welcome him, the worgen closed his eyes and gave in to the sensations.

  
Thoroughly pleased, It settled in to truly familiarize Itself with It's new playthings


End file.
